Got a head full of spiders & a heart that isn't here
Vesper’s smirk deepens at Colt’s greeting, the corners of his mouth twitching with that quiet, wolfish amusement he wears like a second skin. "Might be I’ve got good timing," he drawls, plucking a sprig of peppermint bark from his back pocket and tucking it between his teeth. "Or maybe I’ve just got a gift for showin’ up when the cussin’ starts."
He straightens as she leans against the wagon, letting his gaze rake over her—not hungry, not obvious, just... thorough. The sweat-slick heat, the flush high in her cheeks, the strand of gold hair clinging stubborn to her jaw. She’s a portrait of grit and effort, and fuck if that doesn’t suit her better than anything polished ever could.
At her sigh, his brows lift, the shadows curling faint at his heels again like they’ve caught the scent of something sharp. "Shiftin' who you’re pissed at, huh?" he repeats, voice warm with implication but held on a leash. He steps in just enough to be noticed, close enough to count the smudges of sawdust clinging to her tank. He was sure he could make a real poetic case for a good roll in the (literal) hay, but instead of leaning into it, he surprises even himself by tilting his head, holding his palms up in mock surrender. "If you wanna blow off a little steam, my sisters swear by takin’ a few swings at me." His eyes spark, playful and dry. "No hard feelin’s. Hittin' me is therapeutic, apparently."
Only once the tease has settled into the space between them does he answer her question proper, glancing down toward the wagon and then back at her. "Didn’t come lookin’ for the House this time," he says. "I came lookin’ for you. Saw your flyers plastered all over Torchline and figured if I was gonna show up, I oughta figure out what the hell I’d be walkin’ into first."
He straightens as she leans against the wagon, letting his gaze rake over her—not hungry, not obvious, just... thorough. The sweat-slick heat, the flush high in her cheeks, the strand of gold hair clinging stubborn to her jaw. She’s a portrait of grit and effort, and fuck if that doesn’t suit her better than anything polished ever could.
At her sigh, his brows lift, the shadows curling faint at his heels again like they’ve caught the scent of something sharp. "Shiftin' who you’re pissed at, huh?" he repeats, voice warm with implication but held on a leash. He steps in just enough to be noticed, close enough to count the smudges of sawdust clinging to her tank. He was sure he could make a real poetic case for a good roll in the (literal) hay, but instead of leaning into it, he surprises even himself by tilting his head, holding his palms up in mock surrender. "If you wanna blow off a little steam, my sisters swear by takin’ a few swings at me." His eyes spark, playful and dry. "No hard feelin’s. Hittin' me is therapeutic, apparently."
Only once the tease has settled into the space between them does he answer her question proper, glancing down toward the wagon and then back at her. "Didn’t come lookin’ for the House this time," he says. "I came lookin’ for you. Saw your flyers plastered all over Torchline and figured if I was gonna show up, I oughta figure out what the hell I’d be walkin’ into first."
VESPER
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
